Pretty Boy
by evening spirit
Summary: A case involving male-rape makes Reid wonder about his sexuality. In front of Morgan. And then they end up captured by a man who did not appear dangerous at all. Work in Progress.
1. Chapter 1

**Summary:** A case involving male-rape makes Reid wonder about his sexuality. In front of Morgan. And then they end up captured by a man who did not appear dangerous at all. Work in Progress.

**Disclimer:** Not mine. No profit gained.

**Timeline:** Pre-Seaosn One.

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**Pretty Boy - Chapter One**

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It's not that Reid doesn't like Morgan. However if he were to be honest he doesn't _like_ him either. He'd want to say that he's indifferent about the older agent but the truth is he's apprehensive, disturbed and torn between awe and distrust.

Derek Morgan is a professional, that much was obvious to Reid after merely two weeks in the BAU and his opinion hasn't changed over the past five months. Funny, vivacious, flirtatious, sometimes a jerk, overconfident and with no respect for simple human boundaries - when on a case he changed into a focused machine who would never, not once, allow his emotions get the better of him. Oh, he _was_ getting emotional, angry, aggressive - as opposite to Hotch or Gideon - but it always served a purpose, he was always in control. That's how Derek Morgan was while on the case.

Outside of the case though . . . Auch!

They are off-case now, at least by Derek Morgan's standards. They are driving to the club in downtown Pittsburgh where they hope to find Antonio Solano, nickname "Tank", who is associated with the robbery on 43rd Street which occurred a day before the third murder allotted to the same Unsub who raped and killed a week and - earlier - a month before. Raped and killed a man. Solano is probably a weak thread, and the Italian has no connection with the murders whatsoever - at least that's what Morgan said - but for Reid it seemed like more than a coincidence that the shopkeeper reported an attack by mafia and the next day he was killed. True, the murder didn't seem like a ritual execution mafia-style, it was disorganized and sloppy and with obvious sexual motive but Hotch agreed with the young Doctor that something was not right and sent the two men to the mafia nest.

Oh, joy.

Reid keeps thinking about Solano, about the murders and that they don't treat mafia as serial killers even though they most definitely are, and Morgan talks about how much he loves first warm days and that the heat makes all the girls take off long pants and show their naked legs and that it's sooo thrilling.

"Geeez, have you seen that, Reid?" he turns around and Spencer has to draw on all his willpower not to grab the wheel while the driver has his eyes averted from the street and the traffic at no less than 60mph. "Gorgeous babe."

Spencer is tempted to tell Morgan that he's gay. It's not like he is. Sometimes he thinks he simply is asexual. Between all he knows and his logical thinking and eidetic memory combined with childhood and teenage years he'd rather not remember too often, he believes he lost the ability to physically as well as emotionally connect with anyone. It is funny however to imagine Morgan's reaction to such a disclosure. Would he bolt? Would he be shocked? Would he start avoiding Reid altogether? The latter might not be that bad. Unless it would interfere with the team cooperation which Reid cannot risk.

On top of that the current case doesn't really call for such revelations. Though maybe this is exactly why Reid thought of just that?

Morgan whistles and Reid rolls his eyes.

"Don't you just want to squeeze that momma," Mogan mutters in a voice which Reid interprets as lustful and that does it.

"I'm gay," Reid blurts and holds his breath. Damn! Could he turn back time, preferably now? Right now?

Nope?

"What?" Morgan asks in a way only he does. Like he heard a blasphemy, like what's happening is absolutely impossible to happen. Like . . .

"I'm kidding," Reid tries to turn back time in the only way that is possible but he knows it's futile. He opened a can of worms.

Morgan turns to the street and traffic and his fingers thump some rhythm on the wheel. A moment later he says, "Sorry," and Reid is startled. It's not what he expected. At all.

It's not that he thinks Morgan is a homophobe although the truth is they'd never discussed that matter so far. Now, the way he reacted to the male-rape issue in their current case was kind-of telling. It was raw disgust, more evident than in other, oftentimes more gruesome cases and both Hotch and Reid had noticed it, no matter how much he tried to stay professional and not demonstrate it.

Maybe it's because he's such an alpha-male. He's tense now and Reid is certain that no explanations will ever change how he sees his younger colleague. He's certain that Morgan doesn't want a gay-Reid anywhere near him. At least he doesn't talk for the reminder of their drive but suddenly Reid misses his Chicago twang.

They park on an empty street, in front of the entrance shaded by a yellow awning. It's noon, it's hot and the place looks almost abandoned. When they come in, the bells ring and the tall skinny guy at the counter lifts his lazy, unfriendly eyes at them.

Morgan takes out his badge and Reid follows suit. Morgan slaps his on the couter, confidence oozing from every pore.

"FBI," he states, "We're looking for Antonio Solano." He overpronouces the name as if the barkeeper was hard of hearing.

The barkeeper clears some food-leftover from between his teeth, making a sucking sound and answers slowly, "We don't like your kind around here."

"Tough." Derek sits on a stool. "Soda. Please. Same for my man here."

While the barkeeper pours them soda, Reid hears a movement behind their backs. Derek doesn't make a move but Reid can't help himself and turns. A kid, maybe his age but of larger built, with huge dark doe eyes. He approaches them slowly.

"He your lover?" he asks, leaning on the counter inches away from Derek's left elbow.

Reid feels creeps crawl up his spine. Not good. Not good at all.

The bartender places two glasses of soda in front of Morgan and Reid.

Morgan turns to the intruder.

"Antonio Solano?" he asks, ignoring the implication about their relationship completely and Reid remembers why Morgan makes him awed. Focus. Focus on the case.

"Nope." The guy answers and eyes Morgan up and down. Licks his lips. "But I know where to find him."

"Then find him." Morgan commands and takes a sip of his soda, turning away from the doe-eyed guy.

Reid sees the guy's jaw working. It seems there's a battle going on inside, his eyes catch fire for a split second but then become doey again.

"What will you give me if I do?" he whispers and leans an inch closer.

Derek turns to him again, Reid hears a smirk in his voice, "We might think about lessening your time in exchange for cooperation."

"Not what I had in mind," the guy deadpans and his eyes are on fire again. He's so close to Morgan now, that he definitely crossed the personal space bubble but Morgan shows no signs of discomfort. Well, he does tend to cross other people's personal space often enough. But then the guy adds, "I like your kind, pretty boy." Reid could swear that he put a hand on Morgan's posterior too and then everything happens so quickly Reid can't really tell what happens.

Morgan's on his feet, he grabs the guy somehow, turns him, pushes him against the counter with his hand at an awkward angle and leans over him bodily. The barkeeper nearly plasters himself to the back wall of his realm, the cabinet filled with bottles and glasses, and a large mirror, picturing the whole interior of the pub. Reid gapes at Morgan's reflection.

"Where is Solano?" Morgan seeths.

"You like to take men from the back," the guy breathes out. "And you like to top. That will be a problem because I like to top too but we can work on that." His ass moves as he speaks and Reid can see they guy is steering for Morgan's groin.

Morgan never lets his emotions take the better of him while on the case, Reid thinks but here he sees it, he sees how Morgan's face changes, his eyes narrow, his teeth bare. He pulls the doe-eyed guy away from the counter and throws him across the room. The force makes the guy crash into a table, chairs flying, and he falls to the floor with a crack and a thud. Before Morgan is on him again he screams, "Get'im!" and Morgan is stopped a second before he would maybe-possibly smash the guy's head against the floor.

He's pulled away by two beefy bodyguards and Reid feels he's being grabbed as well, searched and his gun and badge are being taken away.

Morgan doesn't fight the men. Reid can see his focused and controlled persona returning and taking over again, while the doe-eyed is aiming a gun at him.

"I'll have your ass," he seeths, his hand shaking.

"You won't pull the trigger," Morgan responds clearly and authoritatively. "You don't want to be in more trouble than you already are. Attacking two FBI agents? Not going to look well in your dossier."

"I don't want to pull the trigger." They guy clicks the safety back on and lowers the gun. "I told you - I want your _ass_." He takes a step closer, then another. "I like your kind." He's chest to chest with Morgan and he's only half a head shorter, "Be honest, boy," he whispers, "You want it too."

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t.b.c.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **Thanks you guise for the great feedback. The number of alerts and favorites on this story exceeded all my expectations. I'd only appreciate if more of you who alerted it (it means you obviously want to read the continuation, am I correct?), let me know why you want to read it, or whatever. Just interact with me people! Reviews are like chocolate for the Muse and this Muse has a sweet tooth! :)

Also, great thanks to **MinuteCloser2Failing **for pestering me to write the next chapter. Trust me, without her (or is it him? I never know, lol) it would take much, much longer . . .

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**Pretty Boy - Chapter Two**

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It takes all Morgan's will not to hit the bastard, not to - at least - spit into his face. This upsurge of rage that made him throw the guy through the room is about enough for one day. Now he has to think of a way to get himself and Reid out of this mess. At least none of them were shot.

"You okay?" he asks the kid as they are being ushered into a booth.

"Yeah." Reid massages his wrist and stops abruptly when he notices Morgan's eyes on his fingers. "Not even a sprain." The kid wants to be tough when he's nothing but.

Derek likes him, more than he'd ever admit. He thinks there's no place for someone this young, this frail in the FBI but Gideon vouched for him and Morgan has to admit Spencer Reid is damn brilliant and this can be useful in their line of work.

Now, however, he would find use for both, brain and brawn.

"Supervisory Special Agent Derek Morgan," their foe reads his badge in a mocking tone. He's such a douchebag. "This gets me all hot and bothered." He looks at Derek for a long moment and neither of them drops their gaze. Derek knows this guy is an alpha personality type and it's unusual for a gay alpha male to be attracted to another alpha. He must see himself as something even more than that. The ultimate leader. His narcissistic ego is bigger than the fucking Empire State Building.

It's obvious now that Reid was more than right about this lead. The only problem is that neither him, nor Hotch really took it seriously. The man in front of them is obviously their unsub, Derek is also 99 percent sure that this is, in fact, Antonio Solano himself. What makes it really unfortunate is that - even though Hotch knows they're here - he has no idea they're being held captive.

"Com'ere." Solano commands glaring at Derek and Derek doesn't even blink. He crosses his arms on his chest and he knows he won't budge. It has nothing to do with behavioral analysis now, or with deliberate provoking the other man. No, it's much more primeval. The very nature at its loudest. His own alpha ego won't be ordered around! And even if a voice in the back of his head whispers that maybe right now is not a good moment for bravado, that maybe he should play along for a while and find his opponent's weak points and use them to his advantage, his ego wins.

No, he won't succumb to this man.

Solano's face breaks in a sly grin. "No?" he sneers. "All it usually takes is the right leverage. What's yours?" Solano walks from side to side and Derek involuntary adjusts his position. It's almost instinctive and he notices it a split second before the predator in front of him - he's subconsciously shielding Reid.

Solano motions for one of his muscle-men and the guy whose arm is as big as Reid's waist grabs the kid and pulls him out from the booth.

Derek's body lunges forward against his will - because he shouldn't show weakness! - and Solano laughs. Derek knows he's made a mistake. Solano pulls out the knife and touches Reid's cheek. He leans closer to Reid and sniffs.

"He's not interested in me," he says. "And I'm not interested in him." He glares at Morgan for ten beats of Morgan's terrified heart. Damn, Solano really does know exactly what Morgan's leverage is and Morgan doesn't even try to deny it anymore. He can't. "You wonder how I know? I have a gift, I can sense gay," Solano explains sweetly. "Let's make a deal," he continues unhurriedly, tracing Reid's cheekbone with the tip of his knife. "You will take off your jacket. And your tee. I want to see your naked chest. But do it slowly. If you comply, I will tell those dogs not to bite."

Derek's blood freezes in his veins.

This is surreal! He wants him to what? Here? And then . . . what? . . . He can't move. For a very long moment - which probably isn't really all that long, it's simply his mind working overtime - he feels void in his intestines. Big, black, sucking void. His knees are weak and he wouldn't trust them to support him now. He's terrified, his heart is in his throat, nearly choking him, making him gag, and he hadn't felt like this in years . . .

Because Derek knows he has to abide by the sicko's rules. Just like before, many years ago, he's got everything to lose if he doesn't. Only then . . . he hadn't known he wouldn't lose anything, he had simply been a kid who had been threatened and lied to. Now? He has no idea if Solano is bluffing or not, but he can't risk Reid getting hurt, even if everything in him screams, "No!"

And then . . .

He's never going to find out what he would really do, because the back door open with a loud 'bang' and a short, fat man enters the room, bringing with him the air of strength and authority.

"Tony?" he asks with a warning in his voice. Derek's eyes, still trained on 'Tony's' face, note a twitch of his mouth, a constrained fury. "What's the meaning of this?"

The newcomer finds FBI badges, his eyes shot fireballs and 'Tony' along with his bodyguards vanishes as fast as their legs can carry them. The short, fat guy ignores Reid, glares at Morgan, his lips twisted in something that might be interpreted as a smile with a great dose of good will and hands them their badges and guns.

"I know why you're here," he seethes. "And I don't want you here."

Reid looks from the man to Derek frantically, he's about to open his mouth but he closes them, opens and closes, several times. The man only looks at Morgan.

"Do you understand?"

"I understand," responds Derek, pocketing his badge and holstering his gun. "But I'm not the one making decisions."

"Convince those making decisions then. We'll deal with in on our own."

"It's not how it should be done."

"It should be done how I want it done." The man's tone is even, certain. He's the sole king of this realm. "Go. Away." He orders and this order cannot be disobeyed.

So Morgan and Reid leave the pub but both of them know this is far from over.

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t.b.c.


End file.
